Summer Days
by Ichigo Morino
Summary: Ibu Shinji wasn’t like the other children. He didn’t watch cartoons, play outside, or adore sweets. He didn’t much need friends either, but one summer he would make a most wonderful friend.


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Summary: Ibu Shinji wasn't like the other children. He didn't watch cartoons, play outside, or adore sweets. He didn't much need friends either, but one summer he would make a most wonderful friend.

Author's notes: I felt the need to write something involving Shinji and Kamio, I always do, as children. ^-^ This story also serves as a last hurrah to summer, which, for me, will be ending in a day. To **summer**! And to **Shinji and Kamio**!

**__**

Summer Days

By Ichigo Morino (8.25.03)

Ibu Shinji was a quiet child. He'd spend his time thinking in his bedroom and would never make any sort of mess at the table. In the summer his grandmother, who didn't live all that far from the Ibu residence and really enjoyed her quiet grandson's company, would insist he visit her for weeks at a time.

No one minded this, especially not Shinji, who, quite frankly, never minded anything. So he would come, and she would bake the silent six-year-old various goodies. He wasn't much for sweet things, though he would eat them quietly. He liked lemonade, though, it wasn't too sweet and it was a tad tart, he liked that a lot. 

When Shinji was set in front of the television with a cup of lemonade and a batch of his grandmother's cooking, he didn't watch cartoons like any of the other children. He'd watch tennis matches. And he seemed to be enjoying himself, though he never gave a verbal indication of it. He never gave verbal indications of anything.

One early afternoon, Shinji's grandmother heard the boy mumbling about serves and tennis balls and rackets. That's when she decided he needed to get a little fresh air. He never once wanted to go out and play with the "other children," no matter how nice the weather, so grandma had given up that idea. But she decided the park would do.

Shinji didn't complain, he never complained. He might've mumbled a bit, but once they had reached the said park he fell quiet. Bright greens, and whites, and blues, and browns overwhelmed Shinji's vision. He squinted a bit but said nothing. But while grandma found a nice bench to rest on, he found a nice tree to hide beneath.

He crouched there and poked at the dirt with a stick for a few minutes. Not far off, children were shouting and giggling and playing, but he didn't quite feel up to talking to them. There wasn't anything he had to say, anyway. He dropped the stick eventually, and got up to wander around the trees.

Under the tall trees' shade and beneath the leaves' soft rustling, Shinji walked, never once stumbling over the thick roots. Any normal child would, but as was apparent, Shinji wasn't any normal child. The other children's screams and shouts were all but gone. So was grandma's bench, but Shinji wasn't worried. 

When he'd had enough of absorbing his surroundings' forest colors, Shinji closed his eyes and pictured one of the tennis matches he'd seen on television. He replayed it within his head, but changed a few things, and when he'd done that, he watched as other things changed and the winner on television became the loser in his mind. He smiled lightly to himself, smiling wasn't something he did very often. 

Next, he took a step further and tried imagining his own match. He'd gotten halfway through the game when something managed to shake him out of it. This was a most unusual thing, and it startled him like most things could not. Whenever Shinji thought, he _thought_. And it was more than a little difficult to shake him out of it. But, lo and behold, it was not impossible.

It had been the voice of a child that had brought Shinji back to reality. He blinked lightly. But he listened, and what he heard was a sweet, innocent melody being sung by an even more sweet and innocent voice. Clearly, this was not one of the "other children."

So Shinji made well and followed this voice, finding himself all but pulled in by its gentle melody. He hadn't quite ever heard singing as nice as this and he was more than a little curious to inspect further. Making Shinji curious was something near impossible to achieve, but then again, so was shaking him from his thoughts.

Through the trees he went, not quite running but not quite walking, either. Until he emerged on the other side. Before him was a small clearing, nice and bright and grassy, untouched by the "other children."

And there, sitting on the stump of a once-large tree was a child unlike the others. An adorable little creature with red hair that shone near blonde in the summer sunlight, with pale skin and eyes closed. The delicate child continued singing his sweet melody, oblivious to the world around him, until he heard the grass' soft rustle with Shinji's approach. 

His eyes opened and he looked up at Shinji, surprised but not overly so. 

"Hi…" 

"Hi." 

Shinji found it a little awkward at first, though the other boy didn't seem to have much trouble. But Shinji never talked much, anyway, so his voice was quiet but still a little deeper than the other boy's was.

Eventually Shinji sat down, at the red haired boy's invitation, on the tree stump. And so he found out Kamio Akira was his own age and that he liked singing and music and didn't always like playing with the other children. 

And Akira found out Ibu Shinji liked tennis and watching it on television and didn't like sweet things all that much and playing with the other children wasn't as fun as everyone said it was. 

From that day on Shinji didn't mind coming to the park at all, and he'd pay a little more attention to music though he never heard anyone that could sing better than Akira. And Akira would always be at the park waiting for him, and he'd watch tennis when it was on television though he never saw any game as good as the ones Shinji made up for him. 

Nothing mattered in those days and everything was a little more beautiful than before as long as Shinji was with Akira and Akira was with Shinji. They had no way of knowing then that their meetings in the park were just the beginnings of a strong friendship and that one day they'd be playing on the same tennis team as regulars.

Then, it didn't matter. But drinking lemonade, eating sweets, and talking about tennis and music at grandma Ibu's house _did_. And so they made a point to do that every evening.

And both of them had the best summer they'd ever had.

**__**

~ Owari ~


End file.
